


Purple haze

by otter_pop



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Casual Sex, Hyung Kink, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Shame, Size Difference, Size Kink, Teasing, like really mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 01:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter_pop/pseuds/otter_pop
Summary: Minseok knew a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. Minseok knew Jongdae liked having his dick sucked in semi-public places, because that was the kind of thing he was into. Minseok knew Junmyeon was interested in Sehun, which the two had hurriedly talked to Minseok about in desperate but separate attempts to vent about their attraction for one another.And Minseok knew that Chanyeol wanted to fuck him, very, very much.





	Purple haze

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt r1.016: Chanyeol likes to claim he's a god in bed, but most witnesses claim that it's all talk. Minseok decides to humour him and maybe show him how it's done. 
> 
> thank you for letting me claim, mods! i hope it's decent~
> 
> title: [purple haze](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjwWjx7Cw8I) by jimi hendrix

There were a few things Minseok expected from sleeping with Chanyeol for the first time. Like, for example, Minseok expected Chanyeol to be a little shy, because as much as he boasted about all the people he had fucked, Minseok had yet to meet one of them, besides Yixing, who was the one that introduced them. When Minseok had asked Yixing if Chanyeol was truly all the talk he made himself out to be, Yixing could hardly contain his laughter.

So as much as Chanyeol talked about his experiences, Minseok knew better, and had expected the full body blush spreading down Chanyeol’s shoulders when Minseok threw Chanyeol down on his bed.

There was also the fact that Chanyeol was... well, he was big. Minseok knew that much just from looking at him. Chanyeol wasn’t subtle with his stupid jeans. Minseok often told Chanyeol his dick was going to fall off from how tight he bought his pants. Idiot.

Amongst other things, Minseok wasn’t surprised by almost anything Chanyeol could have thrown at him. Chanyeol may have bragged about all the notches in his bedpost, teased Minseok for all the times they went out together and Chanyeol brought someone home when Minseok didn’t.

It was fine, Minseok thought, when he could finally see the way Chanyeol absolutely melted under Minseok’s gaze, as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt from top to bottom. His eyes on Chanyeol made him look like he wanted to fucking eat him alive, Chanyeol noted with a harsh swallow against the dryness of his throat.

“You’ve got stamina, right?” Minseok said, made Chanyeol flinch and blink a few times before even realizing Minseok was speaking to him.

“W-what....”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what stamina means,” replied Minseok just as quickly. “Do you _last_ long, Chanyeol?”

At this, Chanyeol nodded almost instantly, but fell silent when Minseok eyed him carefully, let his shirt slide off his shoulder and hang off one arm while he crawled on the bed. Straddling Chanyeol’s legs, Minseok leaned in and took a long inhale against Chanyeol’s collarbone. God, he fucking reeked of the cologne he bathed in, the one he claimed he bought in Paris on one of his many, _many,_ totally 100% real sexual escapades. But Minseok would be lying if he said he didn’t want to run his tongue along Chanyeol’s pulse, feel every beat of his heart hidden under the stink of spice and smoke and perfume too strong for his own good.

Chanyeol’s breath hitched when he felt Minseok just barely grind his hips against his crotch in a lewdly slow drag of thighs against thighs. Chanyeol’s jeans were starchy and uncomfortable against Minseok’s bare thighs, another sign of Chanyeol’s lack of finesse and general disinterest for his own image. What kind of guy couldn’t even do their own laundry?

“Off,” Minseok breathed against Chanyeol’s earlobe, made Chanyeol’s jump into action as he made to shove his pants off so quick, Minseok wasn’t even sure if _he_ had processed it. After Chanyeol shucked his jeans off, and his shirt along with it, Minseok wasn’t quite sure which was worse: the scratch of jean on skin, or the sheen of sticky sweat on Chanyeol’s thighs that made it just _barely_ uncomfortable for Minseok to readjust his position.

Chanyeol wasn’t a small guy. Minseok felt he had already established that months ago the first time they met, when all Chanyeol could boast about was the last girl he fucked, who apparently couldn’t walk for a day afterwards.

 _“Are you sure she was wet?”_ Minseok had said so suddenly, it caught even Chanyeol off guard who sputtered and blushed.

_“Of course she was wet!”_

_“It’s usually lack of lubricant that makes it uncomfortable for someone to walk the next day,”_ Minseok continued. _“Seems more likely than you being a sexual god.”_

_“Well... what do you know?”_

Except Minseok knew a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. Minseok knew Jongdae liked having his dick sucked in semi-public places, because that was the kind of thing he was into, and that Baekhyun had managed to figure out a few new kinks of his own after dumping his last, very vanilla boyfriend. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, Baekhyun insisted, but he just wasn’t enjoying it the way he thought his ex had been.

Minseok knew that Sehun was still a virgin, not that it mattered in any way besides personal definition of the word, and Junmyeon was interested in Sehun, in spite of his virginity, which the two had hurriedly talked to Minseok about in desperate but separate attempts to vent about their attraction for one another.

And Minseok knew that Chanyeol wanted to fuck him, very, very much.

It started with little teases of Minseok’s hips, maybe when he was wearing jeans just a little too tight. Junmyeon had caught onto it almost immediately, rolled his eyes in disbelief when Chanyeol had to tear his gaze away and flushed in bright embarrassment.

And then Minseok moved onto using The Voice™ with Chanyeol, which consisted of asking Chanyeol to do things for him, ending sentences with, “pretty please,” and, “for me?” while Chanyeol grumbled about being better than doing those things for Minseok. Why he didn’t just say no, Minseok had no idea, at the time.

The first time Minseok saw goosebumps littered in the bare softness of Chanyeol’s arms, he knew he had managed to trap him. But still, Minseok played, teased, made Chanyeol want him until he couldn’t want him anymore, and then Chanyeol pushed Minseok against the door of his apartment and leaned down to steal a kiss that would’ve drawn blood had Minseok not been ready.

“You were mouthy earlier,” Minseok observed, tangling his fingers in Chanyeol’s dark hair and pulling, only hard enough to expose his throat. “Where’d it all go? Cat got your tongue?”

Chanyeol swallowed hard, tried to sit up, but earned no leeway, as Minseok used his free hand to keep Chanyeol in _just_ the right position on the bed.

“You’re all talk,” Minseok said. “All about how you’ll fuck the words out of me. Make me cum so good I’ll forget my name, right?” Minseok hummed when Chanyeol didn’t respond. “You know what I think?” Silence, a moment to speak. “I think you need someone to shut you up for once.”

When Minseok made moves to undo the button of his jeans, Chanyeol stuttered for the first unprompted time, his voice small, but enough for Minseok to stop and quirk a brow at him, clearly unamused.

“A-are you gonna fuck me?”

Minseok smiled. “As nice as it would be to make you eat your words by fucking you— no, Chanyeol, I wasn’t planning on it.”

Chanyeol furrowed his brows. “Then...?”

“You almost seem disappointed,” Minseok remarked, ignoring Chanyeol’s beet red blush with a teasing grin. “I want you to fuck me. Or can you not do that?”

“Of course I can,” Chanyeol said, suddenly invigorated. Minseok hummed.

“We’ll see.”

Chanyeol wanted badly to push Minseok down and undress him, have him spread out with that stupid white button up still hanging off his shoulders, because the size of it made Minseok look like he was absolutely drowning in the fabric, swimming in the soft whites and begging Chanyeol to pull him out— except Minseok didn’t beg. Or it didn’t seem that way (it was hard to read Minseok properly sometimes).

Minseok was small, but nothing about the way he talked made it seem that way. How he carried himself never made it seem that way. Chanyeol towered over him but felt so fucking small while Minseok straddled his hips again and pushed him against the headboard of his bed. When Chanyeol lifted his hands and set them on Minseok’s hips, squeezed and felt the muscle under his fingertips, he could practically feel his heart stutter, cheeks flush with excitement. Minseok took a moment to study Chanyeol, before speaking again.

“You like how small I am.”

“Well... yeah.”

“Does it turn you on?” Minseok asked, almost earnestly.

“Feels like I could break you,” Chanyeol admitted, near breathless, and they weren’t even doing anything yet. Minseok grinned his catlike grin, eyes moving down Chanyeol’s body, like he wanted to hunt him down.

“Do you want to?” Minseok proposed. He didn’t expect Chanyeol to shake his head almost instantly. “What do you want?”

Chanyeol swallowed hard, licking his lips before he pulled Minseok in just a little closer. Minseok kissed Chanyeol long, slow. When Minseok pulled away, Chanyeol chased, whimpered when Minseok bit his bottom lip and shuddered hard when Minseok slipped his tongue past his lips.

“I want you to break me.”

Minseok hardly wasted another moment, scooting up on his knees and pushing Chanyeol’s head back, at the perfect angle to stuff his tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth in a messy huff of a kiss. Chanyeol gasped loud when Minseok pulled away, felt spit pooling at the corners of his lips.

“Open,” Minseok said, pulled away only enough for Chanyeol to feel his index and middle finger resting on the plump softness of his bottom lip. His mouth easily fell open, and let Minseok rub the pads of his fingers on the surface of his tongue, before pressing down, sliding in just a touch further. Already, Chanyeol could feel his gag reflex kicking in, throat threatening to tighten as he steadied his breaths. Minseok pressed further, harder, and let out a soft noise of appreciation when Chanyeol gagged around his fingers.

“Good.”

The word alone made Chanyeol want to keep going, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. Minseok swept one away with his free hand.

The more Minseok pushed Chanyeol, the more Chanyeol gagged around his fingers, making them sticky and wet, down his palm. It felt like hours, but in reality was only a minute or two of Minseok watching Chanyeol, studying him. Minseok pulled his fingers out of Chanyeol’s mouth, let the tips of them drag down Chanyeol’s bottom lip before sighing out, “let me touch you,” in his ear.

Chanyeol managed to wiggle out of his boxers, sliding them down to his ankles before kicking them off the rest of the way. Minseok was already sitting on his lap again, wrapping his fingers around Chanyeol’s half-hard cock, the head a light shade of pink. As soon as Minseok took Chanyeol’s cock in hand, he could feel the warmth of his body.

They exhaled at the same time, Chanyeol focused on the absolute lewdness of his own sticky spit on Minseok’s fingers making the tug that much easier, that much smoother. Chanyeol bit down on his bottom lip with a muffled, “fuck,” which apparently wasn’t okay for Minseok. He kissed Chanyeol, hard, sudden, their teeth clicking and Chanyeol’s eyes flying open when he realized he had nicked his bottom lip, bleeding just ever so slightly.

Minseok didn’t say anything when he pulled away, but exhaled a moan loudly when Minseok’s grip tightened. The warning was there, behind Minseok’s teeth, came out when he bit down on Chanyeol’s lip, pulled. He wanted everything Chanyeol was offering, and Chanyeol— well, he didn’t want to hold it back.

Even while Minseok lazily jerked Chanyeol to full hardness, Chanyeol couldn’t help but take note of all the fine details of Minseok’s room; the ropes just barely tucked away at the headboard of the bed, the way everything had a place, but still had a sort of messiness Chanyeol would expect from somebody Minseok’s age. Minseok’s sheets were soft, his bed a little bigger than Chanyeol had figured it would be.

Minseok pulled away to reach over in his side table, messing around in the drawer before pulling out a bottle of lube. Chanyeol noticed a cock ring beside it, just as Minseok made to close the drawer. When Minseok noticed Chanyeol eyeing it, he quirked a brow and looked at him.

“I’m not gonna use it on you,” explained Minseok. “Since you said you have stamina and all.”

Chanyeol flushed red again, knew his face was warm, as watched Minseok sit back on his thighs and pop the cap of the lube bottle.

Despite Minseok’s warnings of being clean, liking things a certain way, it seemed sex was... out of that reach. Tilting the lube bottle to the side, Minseok and Chanyeol both watched it drip down. Minseok hadn’t warmed it up with his hands first, so the sudden temperature made Chanyeol’s cock twitch, sucking in his bottom lip and biting down again. Minseok let it keep going, slipping down Chanyeol’s cock, trickling down to his balls, even as far as his perineum, which Minseok eyed so carefully, Chanyeol could feel goosebumps trailing down his thighs under the attention.

Minseok’s hands were just as small as the rest of him, warmth radiating from his palms as he trailed them tortuously slow down Chanyeol’s thighs. Every inch felt scorched under Minseok’s touch, like the sweetest of burns that Chanyeol craved even after Minseok stopped.

When Minseok finally wrapped his fingers around Chanyeol’s cock, thumb just barely circling the crown of it, Chanyeol felt like he could come right then and there, and— okay, _maybe_ he did tell a little lie when it came to his stamina, but that wasn’t something Minseok had to know, because how long could he _possibly_ want Chanyeol to last for?

The pace Minseok set felt... slow. Chanyeol couldn’t quite think of the words when Minseok was twisting his wrist just right, pulling the smallest of whines from Chanyeol’s throat as he did so. When Chanyeol did manage to look at Minseok through his lashes, he found Minseok’s expression mostly unchanged, brows furrowed only when he did something different to Chanyeol, as if trying to gauge what made him tick and what didn’t.

The beading precum at the head of his cock did nothing to make Chanyeol breathe easier, try and control himself and keep from coming while Minseok continued, up, down, using the flat of his palm to draw long whines from Chanyeol as he sighed and lifted his arms from his sides to hide his face in them.

“No,” Minseok said, half a plea and half ordering him. Chanyeol’s entire upper body now was trembling, from the position he was holding himself in against the headboard, straining to stay sitting up right. Minseok slowed his careful ministrations to a stop, making Chanyeol practically cry as he dropped his arms to his sides.

Minseok slowly moved his wrist again, using his free hand to reach for the bottle of lube and squeezing it generously. Another slick rush of lubricant made it all the more pleasurable for Chanyeol, clenching his eyes shut and knocking his head against the headboard when he sighed and arched his back. It wasn’t until Chanyeol tried to buck his hips upward that he realized Minseok’s weight on his thighs was keeping him from moving, only allowed him the flex of his thighs and helpless twitches of his hips that didn’t do anything to get him closer to coming. How could someone Minseok’s size be keeping him down so easily, like Chanyeol weighed nothing?

“M-Minseok—”

 _“Hyung,”_ Minseok corrected with a calculated squeeze of his hand around the head of Chanyeol’s cock, his palm making the most vulgar sound from the excessive amount of lube, but god, if he said that didn’t make Chanyeol’s blood rush all the more, he’d be lying.

“Hyung, what are you—” Chanyeol broke off to moan helplessly, more of a breathless whine as he clenched his jaw, then felt it go slack when Minseok used his other hand to trail down his perineum, dragging his fingertips through the lube.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

Chanyeol felt like there were a million answers to that loaded question, most along the line of teasing, the rest more like torture, but all of them begged the question of why Minseok was trying to get Chanyeol to come when he was just _asking_ if he lasted long.

Even after being asked, Chanyeol couldn’t get the words out— especially not when Minseok changed the position of his hands, used one to hold the base of Chanyeol’s cock while he used the other to cup the head, before rubbing slow, wet circles around it with his palm. Chanyeol shuddered, couldn’t help the full moan that escaped him as he used his hands to hold Minseok’s hips, digging his nails in.

“I’m— I’m gonna come, hyung.”

“Don’t,” Minseok ordered. Chanyeol huffed incredulously, his hips flexing just slightly off the bed. The sheets felt like they were the temperature of a thousand suns, his thighs sticking underneath him and the headboard against his back as he sighed and sunk down a bit further.

Chanyeol managed to calm his breathing down enough to ward off his orgasm, despite the fact that Minseok was still working him very, very much.

That was, until Minseok changed his hand position again, back to using one to jerk him off, while the other slid down, past his sac, to his perineum. Chanyeol choked on his own spit before he was able to ask Minseok what he was doing, and then he felt Minseok massaging the skin there, his fingers pressing in just slightly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Minseok, I’m not gonna last, fuck—”

“You can’t come, Chanyeol,” Minseok tried to warn, but Chanyeol’s stomach was already tensing, his orgasm right on the tips of his toes. Minseok pulled his hand away from Chanyeol’s perineum, knowing full well it was too much, but kept moving his wrist, as if testing Chanyeol.

And god, Chanyeol really fucking tried to hold it back, bit down on his bottom lip but couldn’t stop his hips from finally grinding into Minseok’s hand, managing a haphazard pace for one, two well timed thrusts— before he finally came with a loud moan. Minseok kept going, despite his warnings, let Chanyeol ride it out in his hand. It wasn’t until he slowed that Chanyeol managed to open his eyes and see the mess of cum on Minseok’s hand.

Chanyeol’s muscles went lax, loosened his grip on Minseok’s hips enough to see he left red marks in place of his fingers (oh, those would bruise).

When Chanyeol finally looked up at Minseok, he expected to get a disappointed sneer or click of his tongue. Instead, Chanyeol found Minseok grabbing the lube bottle from his side. Chanyeol reached for it, but found Minseok immediately flickering his gaze to him.

“You already came.”

“I know,” Chanyeol said, shame laced in the undertow of his words. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” Minseok shrugged, reaching behind the headboard and grabbing hold of the ropes Chanyeol had spotted. Chanyeol watched in bated pleasure as Minseok tied his wrist tightly, bound to the rope at the corner. Chanyeol pulled when Minseok pulled his hand away, before watching as he did the same to his other wrist. “It’s all on you, isn’t it?”

“What does that mean?”

Minseok finally sat back on his knees, looking at Chanyeol with... something in his eyes. Maybe hunger. Maybe something predatory. Whatever it was, Chanyeol knew he was in for something very, very _different._

Chanyeol thought himself to be a talkative person during sex— he owned up to it, as a matter of fact. But there was something so intimidating about Minseok that made Chanyeol bite back all his words, swallow them for later and moan instead. It had nothing to do with age or honorifics, because Minseok was used to Chanyeol forgetting them in heated conversations or moments, like earlier, but... fear. Or perhaps that word was too intense for the situation. Chanyeol was never very good with words, even though it seemed he could never stop talking long enough to think about what he was saying.

“You were always a hands-on kind of guy,” Minseok started, leaning forward just enough for Chanyeol to see the sheen of spit on his lips, teeth parted enough for Chanyeol to notice Minseok’s tongue piercing glinting under the faint light of his room. “Always had to have your nose in places it didn’t belong, right? Now you can watch.”

Minseok gasped soft and quiet, and it took Chanyeol a moment for it to sink in just what he was doing. The lube bottle, and leaning forward on his knees like that, and the way his eyebrows furrowed when he pressed his hand behind him—

“You’re— you’re prepping yourself?” Chanyeol didn’t even wait for Minseok to answer him, nervously pulling at his restraints. “M-Minseok, let me help, I _want_ to help.”

“I didn’t ask what _you_ wanted,” Minseok shot back, venom in his voice, but washed over with lust, desire, drowning in it as he pushed his two fingers in a little more.

“Do you... do you bottom a lot?”

“If you’re asking if you’re my first, don’t flatter yourself.”

“That’s not it!” Chanyeol said, arms straining desperately at the side of his head. He huffed. “Take these off, hyung.”

“No,” Minseok said.

“I want to touch you,” Chanyeol said between pulling at them again. “I want to help prep you.”

Minseok didn’t answer Chanyeol the entire time, only prepped himself, two fingers at first, then three. He couldn’t reach as far as four, so he settled for adding more lube, making his hole sticky and wet before finally pulling out and grabbing Chanyeol’s discarded shirt to wipe his fingers off on.

“It’s how small I am, right? That makes you want to help me, like I’m some helpless thing, and you could hurt me.”

Chanyeol wasn’t quite sure what he expected after Minseok spoke, but he most certainly wasn’t ready to feel Minseok’s fingers around his throat, pushing him back against the board. Chanyeol’s arms went slack, dead weight beside his head as he gathered what his body felt was his last breath. Minseok’s fingers were tight, but not nearly enough to cut off any circulation, any breaths Chanyeol needed.

“You shouldn’t be scared for me.” Minseok’s voice was honey soft, the sweet sound of it completely contrasting the dig of his nails in the side of his throat.

“Should I be scared of you?” Chanyeol offered, feeling clever enough to think he was a few steps ahead of Minseok. Minseok grinned, the curve of his lips off putting to Chanyeol, as he breathed in sharp.

“I never said that.” Minseok loosened his hold on Chanyeol’s neck, tilting his head slightly, innocently. “You asked for this. For me to break you.” Minseok reached over for Chanyeol’s pants, where he pulled out his wallet and the condom package inside of it slipping out. “I wanted to see if all your talk about being such a sex _god_ was true or not.”

“And?”

“You already came, so I wouldn’t get ahead of myself.”

Ouch.

By the time Minseok had rolled the condom onto Chanyeol, Chanyeol was sure he was going to come already. Every touch made him sensitive, hips bucking and thighs trembling. When he saw Minseok reaching for the bottle of lube again, he braced himself for the cool sensation of it running down his cock again, not nearly as shocking as it had been the first time.

Watching Minseok scoot up on his thighs was a spiritual experience in and of itself. Chanyeol had the opportunity to study Minseok— to really appreciate him and every single one of his movements, drink it in like Chanyeol was drowning and desperate all at the same time. The softness of his stomach was rivaled only by the sudden appearance of faint muscles as he held his breath— sinking down on Chanyeol’s cock, slowly, surely, brows knitted together in concentration. Chanyeol wanted so badly to have his hands on Minseok’s hips, rubbing circles on his hip bones, reminding him that it was okay to go slow, take his time.

Except Minseok didn’t seem concerned with taking his time, or even the stretch, as he seemed well prepared.

Minseok’s dark hair fell past his eyes as he finally took all of Chanyeol’s cock in a slick slide. The tightness of Minseok, the heat surrounding him, the disgusting squelch of too much lube— god, Chanyeol could already feel his toes curling. Especially after coming once in such a short amount of time, where Minseok hardly seemed to care about whether or not Chanyeol had recovered.

“You’re big,” was one of the first things Minseok had managed to breathe out, bated, but still out. “Maybe you’ll last longer now that you already came once.”

The jab at Chanyeol’s stamina didn’t have time to sink in, as Chanyeol felt Minseok set his hands on his chest, readjusting his position before finally getting in just the right place to sit up, fuck himself down, tearing a long moan from Chanyeol. The chafe of the ropes reminded Chanyeol just how limited his movement was; from the weight of Minseok on his thighs, to the tightness of the restraints, Chanyeol was there under Minseok, to feel everything Minseok wanted to impose on him and then some.

Minseok’s lips were just barely out of reach for Chanyeol to kiss him, at least initiate some kind of contact. He could feel every one of Minseok’s breaths on his lips, warm, overwhelmingly sweet smelling. A slow and steady pace, Minseok’s hips moving in a slow filthy grind in his hips— Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he had died and gone to heaven or passed and went straight to hell to pay for his lies (what was one or two fibs here and there?).

And even though Minseok was teasing Chanyeol, he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t enjoying himself, absolutely revelling in the way Chanyeol’s cock brushed against his prostate so deliciously on every single slow drag out. Chanyeol _was_ big, the stretch of his dick more than Minseok had anticipated, but was prepared for. Seeing Chanyeol’s hands tied beside his head only served to turn Minseok all the more, knowing Chanyeol wanted to touch, touch, touch, make him come, and Minseok had _all_ that _control_ over him.

Chanyeol’s orgasm worked up slow, built in the pit of his stomach, burning and tingling as he let out soft, small moans every time Minseok tightened around him, lifted himself up, only to slide back down and feel how Chanyeol’s dick twitched inside of him when he praised him for being _so good, Chanyeol, so good._

But hearing Chanyeol and feeling him were two different things, and Minseok was really only going for one.

Minseok lifted his hips enough out of Chanyeol’s lap to slip his cock out of him. Chanyeol moaned quiet, watched curiously, before realizing Minseok was changing his position, turning around and letting Chanyeol see every single part of Minseok’s pink hole stretched around his cock.

“Oh god, oh fuck.”

Chanyeol’s hips flexed desperately as Minseok fucked himself back, patiently. The stretch of his hole and how Chanyeol’s dick sunk inside of Minseok made Chanyeol’s heart beat a mile a minute, lips and mouth dry. If Minseok had told him a month ago this would be happening, that Chanyeol would be watching Minseok fuck himself back on his cock, and Chanyeol couldn’t even _touch_ him, Chanyeol would have been choking back spit and laughter.

Yet, there he was, watching, helplessly moaning and fighting back the urge to move his hips, because god knows what Minseok would do to him if he had even thought of moving. Tie down his legs? His waist? Make him wear that cock ring he had seen earlier?

Most of Chanyeol was truly enjoying this— obviously. If he wasn’t, he would stop Minseok, and he was sure Minseok would listen. But there was the biting annoyance at the back of his chest, the fact that Minseok wasn’t moaning, wasn’t making any noises— just the tension of his muscles in his back when he fucked back.

“M-Minseok,” Chanyeol pleaded. Minseok threw him a glance over his shoulder, the curve of his lashes over his cheeks so enticing, as he blinked and waited for Chanyeol to speak. Chanyeol flushed nervously. “Let me touch you, please.”

“No,” Minseok said plainly.

“Please,” Chanyeol implored, felt the words rushing out of his mouth without even realizing it. “Please, please, I can’t stand just watching you, please let me _touch_ you.”

It wasn’t until Chanyeol swallowed hard that he realized what he had forgotten, what Minseok had so simply said to him earlier.

“Please, hyung.”

Chanyeol didn’t miss the quiet noise that left Minseok at that.

“Hyung, let me touch you, I’ll be good.”

“Not yet,” Minseok said, but it was _something,_ and even the slight progress made Chanyeol want to cry in triumph.

The pace picked up from then, Minseok gradually moving his hips more and more, the excessive lube he used making the slap of skin on skin sound louder, more pronounced than before. Chanyeol could feel his orgasm close already, his toes curling, especially when Minseok started letting out quiet moans, breaths more haphazard and desperate each time he used Chanyeol’s cock to hit his prostate just right.

“Are you gonna come again, Yeolie?”

The pet name sent a full body shiver through Chanyeol’s body, goosebumps littering his sweat-sheened skin. He nodded easily.

“Gonna come for hyung?”

“Fuck, hyung, it hurts.”

“Don’t stop,” Minseok said, this time moaning with his words. The sound of it made Chanyeol’s blood boil, arms straining at his sides again as he begged, pleaded, lost control of his own limits and cried out for all of Minseok.

Chanyeol’s second orgasm washed over him suddenly, without even so much as a warning or his usual telling signs. His hips tensed, chased after his orgasm, as Minseok slowed his ministrations and milked Chanyeol’s cock for all he had. Chanyeol whimpered when he felt Minseok pull off of him, but didn’t make any moves to slide the condom off.

Instead, Minseok straddled Chanyeol’s waist again, facing him. Chanyeol felt Minseok slide his hands down his arms, undoing the restraints and letting his arms fall limply at his sides.

“Good?”

Chanyeol nodded weakly. Minseok turned his head to kiss him, chaste, tender. Chanyeol tried biting at Minseok’s bottom lip, but earned only a gentle lick to his bottom lip, placating him.

“Hyung, you didn’t....”

Minseok shook his head.

“Please.”

“What?” Minseok dragged his thumb over Chanyeol’s bottom lip. “You want to make me come?”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Even after you already did... twice?”

“I want it, I want all of it.”

Chanyeol, despite having free range of his arms now, watched as Minseok reached for his cock, oversensitive, flushed a bright shade of red. Slowly, Minseok slipped Chanyeol inside of him again, the crown of his cock hitting his prostate on the drag in, making Minseok moan low and long from his throat.

All of Chanyeol’s words were knocked from his chest, breath the only thing keeping him grounded as he felt Minseok tighten around him, bucking his hips up and down in a steady pace.

It wasn’t until he felt Minseok’s hands on his shoulders that Chanyeol remembered his hands were free. Despite his overwhelmed moans bordering on sobs, he lifted his right hand from his side, spit into his palm, before wrapping his fingers around Minseok’s dick, fingers loose enough to make a fist Minseok could fuck into. Minseok moaned outright now, burying his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck and biting down on the soft skin when Chanyeol thrust up into him.

Tears pricked at the corners of Chanyeol’s eyes, stung when he tried to blink them away, but he kept going, chasing after Minseok’s orgasm, if only to be _good for hyung, good for his hyung, had to be the best for Minseok-hyung._

Minseok bit back his noises while chasing his orgasm, felt it so close in the pit of his stomach, even as Chanyeol swept his thumb over the slit of his cock, used the precum to make the slide easier. And Minseok would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on all the more that Chanyeol had already come twice, and yet there he was, trying so hard to finish for Minseok, because Minseok was his hyung and he _wanted_ that.

“Chanyeol,” Minseok whimpered as Chanyeol thrust up into him, hitting his prostate. “I’m coming, fuck—”

Minseok groaned when his orgasm hit him, hiding his face in Chanyeol’s neck and breathing hard while Chanyeol worked him through it. Chanyeol couldn’t tell when to stop, until Minseok darted his hand for Chanyeol’s wrist, slowing him to a stop before pulling his hand away. Minseok set his own hand on the side of Chanyeol’s face, kissed him hard.

Chanyeol tried to lay Minseok down, but only earned a groan of disagreement.

“Gotta clean up,” Minseok said. “You made a disgusting mess.”

“My hands weren’t even functioning for half of that,” Chanyeol said, defensive.

Minseok pushed his hair back with a half-clean hand, swung his legs over the edge of the bed before standing up. Minseok walked to his bathroom, rummaged around before tossing a small towel to Chanyeol on the bed.

“Clean yourself up.”

“You’re not even gonna cuddle with me?”

Minseok looked over the door frame to shoot back some sarcastic comment, but judging by the look on Chanyeol’s face, he was at least half serious. Minseok guessed that was to be expected, since Chanyeol was the type for aftercare, or at least some sort of sweet talk.

“After we clean up.”

Chanyeol brightened immediately, pulling the sheets off the bed after Minseok’s comment.

“Did I live up to all my talk?” Chanyeol said as he balled them up in his arms. Minseok came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

Minseok replied, “not at all.”

Chanyeol visibly deflated, lip jutted in a small pout.

“But we’ll remedy it.”

Starting with cleaning his room, Minseok ordered, and watched appreciatively, as Chanyeol carried his sheets out of the room, ass still bare for him to enjoy on the way out.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you again to the mods for hosting the fest, the prompter for the prompt, and you, for reading~
> 
> feel free to point out any mistakes or typos~


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